


12 Moons

by jillyfae



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Circle of Magi, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orsino/Sebastian - Freeform, Pre-Canon, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young lay brother with no serious inclinations towards taking vows, a First Enchanter who has denied himself the weakness of desire for much too long, and one year of Chantry service behind thick stone walls ... whatever will they do to pass the time?</p><p>And will they remotely recognize themselves when their one fleeting year is up?</p><p>*PLEASE NOTE: This piece has been discontinued.  Sorry.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Verimensis

**Author's Note:**

> Taking the description of Thedosian holidays as described by the games, (rather than strictly going by names), I am assuming Verimensis/Wintermarch takes place in what would roughly be the equivalent of northern-hemisphere March. Not quite spring, but not winter any longer either. Feel free to [ask](http://faejilly.tumblr.com/ask) or drop a comment on a chapter here if you ever have a question about what I think I'm doing to their timeline. <3
> 
> Based on what little we can guess of Sebastian's background from his conversation, this story takes place almost ten years before the Fourth Blight and the events of the Dragon Age games.

The Grand Cleric had warned the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter about the newest member of her flock, the lay Brother who would be serving with Sister Mariana at the Circle for the next year.  (She rotated them, so they wouldn't ever start to sympathize too much for the mages in their care.  And to cut down on the sex behind the bookcases.  Not that anyone admitted that part out loud.  Not that it was effective, either, but the First-Enchanter pretended he didn't know that, and let the Grand Cleric live in pleasant denial.  He had no idea what the Knight-Commander thought on the subject of sex behind the book-cases, though he occasionally liked to imagine the expression that would cross her face if he ever asked.)  
  
Orsino hadn't thought he'd needed Elthina's warning.  The former rake of Starkhaven being forced into the Chantry by his parents had inspired enough gossip even the Circle had heard several different versions of the tale.  Orsino was sure he was prepared to deal with either the overly pious arrogance of the newly converted, or the snide insinuations of a man who was acting the part until he could make good his escape.  Being First Enchanter rather taught one to deal with almost anything.  
  
He hadn't expected the man, _practically a boy, not even of age yet, barely nineteen_ , to be so pretty, with a soft laugh that made even the most tentative of young apprentices smile, and brilliant blue eyes that had half the young enchanters sighing after him.  
  
 _Probably half the Templar recruits, too, though they can hide longing eyes behind helms when they desire._  
  
There was certainly no doubting the probable success rate young Sebastian had enjoyed flirting his way across the Free Marches.  
  
Which wouldn't have been a problem, except for the fact that Orsino found himself, during services, listening to the boy sing, and wondering what his own name would sound like whispered in the Brother's sweet brogue.  
  
 _I am a desperate, stupid old man._  
  
Not that he was actually all that old, youngest First Enchanter ever when I was assigned, despite prematurely silver hair and the ache in his neck after a day spent dealing with Templars and politics.  But it had been a very long time since Orsino had properly enjoyed another person.  
  
 _Been a depressingly long time since I thoroughly fucked someone, I mean._  
  
He was too careful of his flock to get overly involved with one of his Enchanters; that would inspire the worst sorts of power plays.  Attempting a Templar would only give the Knight-Commander more cause to lord her superiority over them all, and he didn't have the patience to deal with noble arrogance more than he already did during his Court appearances.  
  
But a beautiful Chantry boy, who would be gone in a year, with no one the wiser?  
  
 _Maker forgive me, Brother Sebastian is temptation incarnate._


	2. Wintersend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd annum of the year, though the first in our story; it is roughly equivalent to the spring equinox. I made it sort-of mayday as well, just because I've made jokes about maypoles in other fics and I like the imagery.

The breeze that night was soft and slow and edged with ice.  Spring was on its way, but it hadn't quite made it yet, despite the hot sunshine that had warmed the afternoon's 'festivities'.  Not that a Circle got to properly celebrate Wintersend, _no poles or dancing here_ , but they had been granted a free afternoon, some music and conversation and a shipment of plants and flowers.    
  
Orsino could hear soft cries from the courtyard as he worked and shook his head, half dismay, half amusement.  It might smell like spring, but it was still cold, and fucking half naked on damp stones was more likely to cause pneumonia than decent orgasms.  
  
 _Ah, to be young and resilient and stupid again._  
  
He sighed, loathe to interrupt anyone finding some pleasure in their lives here.   _If I don't the Templars will, and then next year we won't even get music._  Orsino shoved up from his desk and walked as slowly as he could manage towards his window.  
  
At first he didn't see anyone, until a particularly drawn out moan drew his gaze downward.  They were braced against the wall directly beneath him, almost completely hidden in shadow, the light from his window splashing the cobbles behind them.  He couldn't see enough to tell who they were, the rough outline suggesting her legs were wrapped around his waist, his head buried between her neck and shoulder.  
  
Orsino could see, however, the sharp jerk of the man's hips, matched by the light gasps from her throat, the tightening of her legs causing their silhouette to narrow.  
  
His imagination helpfully supplied the suggestion the man was Sebastian, and his cock twitched slightly with a sudden interest in the proceedings.  
  
He stepped to the side and turned around, his shadow no longer visible in the window, his back braced against his own wall, and listened.  
  
He closed his eyes, hips rolling with each gasp of breath, each not quite silent moan drifting through the air. His chest felt hot, and he could see, so clearly behind his eyelids, Sebastian bent over his desk, hands clenching around the far edge as Orsino took him from behind, hard and deep.  
  
The entwined breaths outside sped up, just the slightest bit louder, an almost cry muffled as they kissed, swallowing each other's noises as they came in the dark.  
  
Orsino waited, nostrils flaring as he made himself breathe slowly, silently, palms pressed flat against the wall behind him, his cock painfully hard beneath his robes.  He kept waiting until he heard the sibilant hiss of a whispered conversation, then the soft taps of doubled footsteps sneaking away, back into the Tower.  
  
Only when all was silent, even the breeze having died down, did he move.  He closed his shutters, blew out his lights, and sat back down in his chair, trying not to wince as tight fabric rubbed against his cock.  He took his time, slowly pulling off his gloves, lifting his robes, loosening his breeches and easing himself out of his smalls.    
  
He summoned and dismissed an ice spell, quick enough to almost coat his hand, but melt immediately, and wrapped his damp and shockingly cold palm around his cock.  
  
His whole body jerked, his lips tight as he swallowed his shout, and then he thought about fire.  Not quite enough to call a spell, aimed inwards instead of out, until his skin flushed and he could feel the sweat behind his balls, under his arms, trickling down his back, slickening his palm and cock.  His hand stroked the entire time, up and down, teasing his crown, tugging his foreskin until the heat and the pleasure were too much, and he closed his eyes, maintaining just enough composure to aim away from his clothes as he came.


	3. Pluitanis

_Princes are not meant for chastity._  
  
Sebastian wasn't sure yet, why he'd agreed to play along as a lay assistant to the Sister assigned to the Gallows.  Pretending to devotion and piety he didn't feel, for what? A roof over his head and food in his stomach?  
  
To lull his parents into a false sense of security?  
  
Now that he was here, though, he was staying for the sex.  
  
These mages were insatiable, with tricks up their sleeves and dancing down their fingers.  The Templars were a bit more shy, but delightfully strong and desperate.  
  
And every single one of them interested in someone new and flexible, then even more eager to pretend nothing had happened, afterwards, so no one would ever get caught.  
  
It was easier to get laid here than in a tavern emptying out when they shut off the taps, and he'd always found that remarkably easy pickings.  
  
Of course, he'd also generally preferred more mature options.  Someone who knew what they liked, and knew how to get it.  He'd only indulged the youngest Templars and Mages here, all of them fumbling around like pups, more interested in speed and secrecy than in proper enjoyment.  
  
Not that he was complaining.  He'd gotten three separate sets of lips wrapped around his cock the past two days.    
  
Still.  
  
He missed a proper fucking.  Wearing each other out until neither one of you could move, breath and limbs heavy against the bed... then attempting one last go round at dawn before you had to slink off in the morning light.  
  
He had a particularly vivid fantasy, in fact, of the First Enchanter's silver hair between his legs, his throat tightening around Sebastian's cock as Sebastian ran his fingers along those gorgeous pointed ears of his...  
  
Sebastian suppressed a shudder, rather surprised at how very quickly that image went straight to his groin.  And now he couldn't stop thinking about Orsino.  Wondering what he looked like under all those layers of delectable robes, admiring the lift of his hands, long pale fingers emerging from dark gloves, listening to the rasp of his voice when he spoke to his charges.  Wondering if that voice would get even raspier when he was fucking someone, if he would cry out with pleasure when he was the one being fucked.  
  
But it wasn't likely a man possessing such infamous self-control as the First Enchanter would spare the slightest thought for assignations in dark corners.  Sebastian sighed, reminding himself to consign such thoughts to fantasy.  He never lacked for partners; he shouldn't bemoan the fact that he wanted one in particular.


	4. Nubulis

Orsino woke up hard as a rock.  He'd been dreaming of the boy again.  And was rather inclined to lob a fireball at whoever decided to knock on his door and wake him up before he'd gotten the dream-Sebastian on his knees.  
  
"A moment!" He called out, hoping the rasp of frustration in his voice would be taken for sleep still caught in his throat.  He felt his nostrils flare as he glared at the breeches he'd thrown over his chair on his way to bed not nearly enough hours ago.  
  
Tucking himself beneath cloth and knotting the ties around his waist was just as horribly uncomfortable as he'd expected.  
  
He grabbed a dressing gown and stalked out of his bedroom to his sitting room, all the way to the main door, which he flung open with a scowl.  "What?"  
  
Brother Sebastian was standing there, glancing up at him through lowered eyelashes.  His groin ached, his hands itching to grab Sebastian by the hair and pull him in for a kiss, or shove him down to ease the heavy pulse of his cock, as if he was back in his dream, still asleep, still allowed to touch...  
  
Sebastian's eyelids flickered all the way closed then up again, the motion just enough to shock Orsino into paying attention to the real world, though he felt a shadow of surprise echoing in the back of his thoughts.   _Did he just eye me up?_  
  
"Sorry for disturbing you, First Enchanter," Sebastian's voice was soft and warm, the brogue even better in person than it was in his fantasies, thick and luscious.  "But Serah Marcus and Serah Yasmina were found in the chapel, and Sister Mariana was wondering if perhaps you..."  
  
 _If I could send them off before anyone calls the Templars?_  Orsino rolled his eyes and stepped into the hallway, trying not to react to the warmth of the young man's body now only a hand's-breadth away from his chest.  Sebastian didn't step back to give him room, however, eyes dark and chin up as he stared at Orsino, close enough to touch, close enough to kiss.  Close enough Orsino could see the shift in his gaze again, down and up, along the line of Orsino's neck, the v of skin visible between the layers of his gown that was usually hidden by his robes.    
  
 _He is eyeing me up.  Maker have mercy, do not return the favor, he's close enough he'd notice._  
  
"Fighting or fucking?"  Orsino asked.  
  
Sebastian's nostrils flared, a brief flash of tongue visible as he licked his lips, the tension in his throat as he swallowed almost making Orsino abandon his composure and moan aloud.    
  
"I beg your pardon?"  Sebastian's voice was breathier than usual, and Orsino was struck by the sudden desire to find out what he'd sound like if Orsino gave in and bit, just the slightest pressure of teeth against his neck above the line of his robes.  
  
He resisted, however, made himself step slowly to the side, admiring the breadth of Sebastian's shoulders even as he avoided brushing against his arm as he started down the hallway.  "If they were just there to pray after hours, the good Sister would've sent them back to their quarters and reminded them to pay attention to their curfew in the future.  Were they fighting, or fucking?"  
  
"That was a bit, unclear, actually."  There was a lightness in Sebastian's voice Orsino hadn't heard before, and he was foolish enough to glance over his shoulder.  He caught a glimpse of a small wry smile, amusement curving along Sebastian's cheeks, and almost stumbled as a renewed shot of lust made it difficult to remember how to walk.  
  
He turned back to face forward, snorting softly under his breath, his derision aimed equally at his foolish young charges and foolish old First Enchanters.  
  
"And here I must leave you, First Enchanter."  Orsino turned and raised one eyebrow at the sight of Sebastian bowing a graceful farewell.  "I doubt the Enchanters will appreciate an audience for their..."  His voice fell off politely, a slight wave of his hand and a raised eyebrow eloquently expressing his expectations of an unpleasant meeting.  
  
"I suppose."  Orsino smiled slightly.  "Very few people enjoy getting their tongue-lashings in public.  Thank you, Brother Sebastian."  
  
"Anything for you, First Enchanter."  Sebastian paused, his gaze fixed on Orsino's face for just a moment, the dark edge of his _anything_ hovering in the air between them.    
  
His footsteps were quiet against the stone as he turned and walked away; Orsino had to remind himself not to stand and watch him leave.  Instead he turned and entered the chapel.  
  


* * *

  
  
When he returned to his quarters in order to attempt at least an hour more of sleep, he was so tired it took two tries to unlock his door.  
  
And three to unlatch his bedroom door.  That latch had always been a little tricky.    
  
He stood in the doorway, head tilted with mingled confusion and exhaustion, staring at the pale square of parchment visible against the dark cover of his pillow, fingers twitching as they reenacted opening the two very closed doors that were now behind him.  
  
He decided he was too tired to worry about strange pranks or tricks, and too curious to just destroy it, so he took the two long strides necessary to reach his bed and pick it up.  
  
 _My dear Orsino,_  
  
 _I hope this is not too informal a greeting, but if there is one thing I am good at, it is recognizing a mutual attraction when it is staring me in the face._  
  
 _Or trying not to stare at my groin._  
  
Orsino coughed in mingled embarrassment and amusement.  Apparently he was less discreet than he had thought.  
  
 _I am sure you are aware of my reputation.  You know most of what goes on in the Circle, after all.  I wonder though, if it would please you to know that I have been known, when bent over a table, to pretend it is your cock inside me, to imagine your fingers digging into my hips, until I am forced to close my mouth and eyes so as not to call your name as I come._  
  
Orsino’s poor neglected cock surged back to life at that.  Pleased was certainly one way to put it.    
  
 _If my attention is unwelcome, simply never mention this note, and I shall endeavor to hide my desires until my term of service is up.  If, however, you wish to return my advances, I remain at your service, for whatever you desire._  
  
 _Sebastian Vael_  
  
Well.  ’Anything.’  ’Whatever you desire.’  Maker.  Orsino wasn’t even quite sure where to start, with that sort of invitation.  
  
He didn’t think he had it in him to turn it down.  
  
 _p.s. I may, perhaps, have a few other talents besides recognizing a flirtation even when both parties are trying to avoid it.  Talents involving locks. And knots. And not being seen.  If that inclines your decision one way or another._  
  
Definitely not turning him down.


	5. Eluviesta

At first Sebastian had thought his note a success.  He could feel the First Enchanter's eyes on him during service the next morning.  He could feel his cock, hot and heavy, not quite hard, but all it would take was one lifted eyebrow, the shift of those pale graceful fingers...

Nothing happened.  Just those eyes, cool and calm.  Orsino's face stayed smooth, his mouth straight, his chin up, his body still.  Not a twitch, not a smile, not even a wink.

Sebastian resisted the urge to sigh, and tried to convince his cock to stop reacting every time Orsino happened to be in the same room.

Only it happened quite a lot _._

_Perhaps more than it used to?_

He only recognized the game after he'd given up on a summons at all.  He'd pinned a lovely elvish lass against a bookcase, her legs wrapped around his hips, her soft cries muffled by his mouth.  And then stepped out into the library proper afterwards, to see Orsino, calm and still and smooth.

But there was perhaps the slightest lifted eyebrow that time.

"Are you keeping an eye on me, First Enchanter?"  Sebastian kept his voice low, stepping slowly closer.

"And if I was?"  The lovely whisper of his voice was equally low, enticing Sebastian to take another step.

"I'd have to ask if there was anything in particular you wanted to see?"  He stopped his slow advance, permitted himself the luxury of licking his lips.

"That would be telling, now wouldn't it, Brother Sebastian?"  He'd watched Sebastian's mouth, then his eyelids dipped, hiding his thoughts, the green of his eyes impossibly bright in the shadows.

"Perhaps I enjoy being told what to do?"  Sebastian lifted his chin just a little, baring his throat, vulnerable as he spread his hands and almost closed his eyes. 

"Do you now?"  It was so very hard to hold himself still, Orsino's words blowing across the skin of his neck, his warmth just a step away.  "My office then.  Tomorrow.  First bell before breakfast."

His held his breath as Orsino turned, a swirl of robes and quiet footsteps disappearing from the Library completely.  He sighed, a shaking shivering sound that he felt all the way down to his toes once he was alone.

_Tomorrow._

* * *

 

Orsino had had some trouble sleeping that night. 

He'd been forced to wonder, while walking to his office in the dawn light, if any of the apprentices or recruits serving at cleaning duties had noticed the hitch in his stride.  It was difficult to keep a straight face when so aroused, the hard length of his cock rubbing against cloth stretched tight over his groin.  He could only be thankful that his robes were heavy enough to hang straight down, hiding his predicament.

_And at least my breeches have more give than the Templars' leathers beneath their plate._

That almost made him smile. 

That was unusual enough it might catch someone's eye.  The First Enchanter was too important to laugh by himself in the hallway. 

Being crazy brought Templar attention.

There were so many, many ways this could go horribly wrong.  Could draw the worst sort of eyes towards the few parts of his life he'd kept private through the years.

He didn't care.

He hadn't wanted anything this badly in _years._

He made it safely behind closed doors, braced his hands on his desk and closed his eyes, reminding himself to breathe.  Anticipation was making his whole body pulse, not just his poor abused cock.  _Maker_ , _thank you for the boy.  For the things I am going to do to him.  The things I hope he'll do to me.  There is no way such a perfect specimen is anything less than a gift from You, proof You cannot hate us as Your Templars claim._

_Or else he is a test, and I am failing.  And I do not care, and thank You anyways, You rotten bastard._

But his perfect gift was not due for some little time, so he made himself sit down and finish his paperwork, requests for leave and correspondence and rooming and deciding who to take with him to his next Court date.

He was likely to lose quite a bit of time today.  It was important not to fall behind.  No one could notice his distraction.  Not if he wanted it to last.

Though he was being ridiculous, planning an _affaire_ before he even knew if the boy would show up.  Or if he did show up the once, if he'd stay past the day.

Having just sworn at Him, he probably shouldn't ask the Maker for luck in that regard.

He jerked when there was finally a knock at the door, the dull ache in his groin throbbing back to the forefront of his perceptions.  If they day went as he had planned, the tea he'd had this morning would be ...  _helpful._  If not, he was rather destined for a long painful aching sort of experience.

"Enter."

Sebastian slid silently in through the door, closing it behind him, the catch of the latch a loud click in the background, his head tilted and one eyebrow raised, a hint of a smile curving those pretty lips of his.

"Lock the door."  Orsino kept his voice cold and calm and level, his face as impassive as he could manage.

He did not miss the way Sebastian's lips parted, a slight shift of expression almost visible before he hid it behind smooth cheeks and locked the door.

"Kneel."

The boy dropped so very gracefully, a smooth shift of weight.  His shoulders were relaxed beneath his robes, a flush slowly building across his cheeks, just visible before he bowed his head.

_Such a beautiful supplicant._

"In this office, my word is law."  Orsino slowly pushed his chair back, lifted himself to his feet.  "There will be no argument, no dissension.  I am Master here."  He stepped around his desk, slow and steady, feeling each step travel up his legs and spine, the solid sound of boot hitting floor like an echo to his heartbeat.  "You will do what I command."  He stopped when he was but a pace before Sebastian.  "Do I make myself clear?"

Sebastian nodded, then lifted his hands, palm up, the question clear in the line of his arms and back.  _May I?_

"You may ask your question."

"You said _in_ this office, milord."  Orsino blinked, a thrill down his spine at how easily the word slid out of Sebastian's mouth, how obligingly he bowed."But what of outside it?"  He tilted his head just a little, just enough for Orsino to see a hint of blue staring up at him through lashes and brows.

There was no submission in that look, only promise.

_He switches both ways, my pretty boy?  Oh, we will do so very well together._ "We shall see, won't we?"

A hint of a smile then, before Sebastian's eyes dropped again.  "Yes, milord."

"First, you shall learn your place here."  Orsino slid two fingers under Sebastian's chin, the skin as smooth as an elf's after his morning shave, and lifted slowly.  He kept his eyes down, a hint of blue through thick lashes, waiting for instruction.

_Maker, he is perfection._

"Look at me."  He did, eyelids heavy and pupils large and cheeks so lightly flushed.  _Such a pretty boy._

"Open your mouth."  That slight flare of nostrils again as he complied.  Orsino ran his thumb lightly along those parted lips, feeling the ragged brush of air from uneven breathing against his skin.  He scraped the fullest part of the bottom lip with his nail, pulling it out just a bit.  "Wider."

Sebastian dropped his jaw, a slight hint of a whine edging each breath. 

"You will keep your hands to yourself."  Orsino pushed the split panels of his robe to the side, and begun to untie his breeches.  "I wish to see how good you are with that pretty mouth of yours." 

Sebastian's tongue slid forward, just enough to cover his bottom teeth, the rasp in his breathing deepening into an almost hum, his eyes almost completely closed, just a flicker of blue between narrowed lids showing how intently he was watching Orsino's hands.

Orsino missed Sebastian's reaction to the first sight of his cock, as his own eyes closed with a groan at the relief when he eased it free.

The boy was leaning forward just a little when he opened his eyes, eager for that final step forward, the soft slide of Orsino's boots against the floor until the crown of his cock brushed against hot lips.

Orsino's eyes closed again when those lips wrapped around him, the press of Sebastian's tongue pushing up against him.  He forgot how to breathe, a violent shudder as the last of his breath fled his lungs, his body on fire as Sebastian pulled back, the slick slide of lips until he was suckling gently just at the tip.

He tilted his head until he could ease down one side, tongues and lips a tease along hot, hard flesh, and then one slow lick, tongue spread wide and flat back up to his crown.  He did it again, and again, both of them making greedy, desperate moans and gasps, until he was settled back where he'd started and Orsino leaned forward, slowly pushing his cock deeper into Sebastian's wide open mouth, until he could feel the boy's throat, the shift as he tilted his chin to accommodate him, to take it all.

Orsino couldn't stop the jerk of his hips, the soft whine of pleasure as he felt Sebastian swallow. 

It had been _so long._   He had been hard all morning, _the past three moons,_ just at the thought of that mouth, so artfully applied, and reality was remarkably better than imagination.

Though, he had the feeling, building in the tightening of his stomach, the pressure in his balls, the ache in his feet as he held himself still, that even if this was a regular occurrence, it would never stop being overwhelmingly spectacular.

He had to clench his hands at his sides to stop himself from running his fingers through that hair, holding him tight and fucking his mouth mercilessly.

Orsino managed one half-coherent thought, _next time,_ his toes curling in his boots to brace himself as he felt Sebastian shift his knees, adjusting his weight.  He was good, so very good, the caress of lips and tongue, knowing when to suck, when to slide backward or forward, the shift of his throat when he took him all the way in, the swirl of his tongue when he almost let him go free.

The almost scrape of teeth against his shaft, as if Sebastian knew how much Orsino liked the promise of pain.

He didn't need that promise this morning though, his balls heavy and full and aching, a moan escaping his mouth as Sebastian leaned forward again, his nose pressed against Orsino's skin, his throat spasming as Orsino's hips jerked forward.  His fingernails dug into his palms as he swallowed the boy's name down a throat gone tight as he felt his control break, the need surging with one last buck of his hips as sweet hot relief poured down Sebastian's throat.

He held himself stiff even as he felt his cock slowly soften, closed his eyes to savor the warm shudder of his muscles as his body eased back to normal.

Only when he knew he could manage his usual smooth composure again did he move, his steps almost silent as he backed away, tucked himself back into his clothes with a slight wince, and returned to his seat behind his desk.

He sat for a moment, admiring the view, the way Sebastian's shoulders lifted with each heavy breath, the way the flush across his cheeks had spread over his face and down his neck, the way his fingers were so very tight, braced against his thighs, holding himself in place.

"You shall not relieve yourself, nor permit anyone else to do so."  Orsino wanted to strip him now, to see how he looked without robes in the way, to feel the hard hot length of his cock, to taste and take and savor. 

But they could not risk the time.  Besides, anticipation and frustration sweetened that first fuck so very much, desperation and violence simmering under the surface until neither of them could stand it any longer.  Thinking about the boy, hard and aroused all morning, would only help give him stamina for round two.  "You shall report to the kitchens at luncheon.  They'll give you a tray to bring to me.  Don't be late."

"Of course not, milord."  Sebastian bowed until his forehead touched the floor, a curve of flexible spine, the combination of body and voice and submission so sweet and painful Orsino almost winced.  He could only imagine the agony, the pain of arousal trapped behind cloth, intensifying as Sebastian bent so smoothly, increasing the pressure against his groin.  Blood attempted to surge back to Orsino's cock again, empathy and anticipation, much too soon, the tangle of pressure and lust and pain making his lips part as he made himself remember how to breathe.

He couldn't quite figure it out until after Sebastian had pushed himself to his feet and left, the soft click of the door the signal his lungs needed to let him gasp one hard breath.

The game was supposed to teach Sebastian of Orsino's preference for discipline, but this morning was likely to be a torment for the both of them.

* * *

 

Sebastian had wanted someone with experience.

Backbone.

Patience.

_It was hard..._

He snorted softly to himself, earning a raised eyebrow from Sister Mariana.

She had assigned him to repairing hymnals today, of course, _just his luck_.  Carefully checking every page, and every cover, setting aside the damaged ones.

The ones with illicit drawings in the margins.  _Goodness, is that position even possible?_

He had wanted something more interesting than a quick fuck behind a closed door.

He may have gotten more than he'd bargained for, in the First Enchanter.

He smiled, shifting his seat to ease the fading ache between his legs, ignoring the Sister completely as he continued his work.  Only a few more hours until luncheon.

It was difficult to wait, but he suspected it would be worth it.

When it was finally time for luncheon he couldn't even taste his food, anticipation burning away the flavor before he managed to swallow, a quick snack on his feet in the pantry before he slid into the kitchen proper to pick up the First Enchanter's meal.  He kept his hands steady when he lifted the tray however, giving the scullery who'd passed it along a wink and a smile before leaving.

_Mustn't raise suspicions._

Orsino greeted him and the food with a tilt of the head, eyes and chin aiming at a small table in the corner.  Only after Sebastian put it down did he speak.

"Lock the door."  The quiet snick of the lock catching was already a sound Sebastian enjoyed.  "Strip." 

Sebastian took his time, slowly undoing every tie, every toggle, every button, caressing his own skin with his hands as he pulled the fabric away from his body, carefully folding his robes and clothes and laying them gently in the chair next to the corner table.

He didn't think Orsino was concerned with eating his lunch right away.

Sebastian was hard by the time he was done, the slide of cloth against skin and the unwavering gaze of those green eyes watching him more than enough to build heat low in his stomach, especially as it had never completely faded after their morning encounter, a slow bitter burn as the hours passed.

Orsino's nostrils flared, the slightest shift across his face, so small a change Sebastian almost missed it.

_Almost._

It was only when Orsino finally moved, pushing back from his desk and walking towards the fireplace, that Sebastian noticed the blanket on top of the hearth rug.

Orsino almost smiled when Sebastian lifted his gaze to his face again, crooking a finger and gesturing for Sebastian to come closer.  Sebastian was having trouble breathing as he stepped forward, a tremor low in his stomach making his lungs ache as he forced each breath, in, then out, echoing the slow step of his feet until he stopped, just far enough from Orsino to avoid brushing against his robe.

"Do you need a gag, or can you keep yourself quiet?"

"Whichever you prefer, milord." 

One eyebrow slowly lifted, Orsino's face smooth and calm.  But Sebastian saw his fingers clench together, recognized the edges of the mask the elf wore.  "I won't punish you if you make a sound, but our liaison will be over.  Do you understand?"

Sebastian nodded, tightening his jaw and swallowing hard. 

"Close your eyes." 

Sebastian did, feeling his breath shake as he exhaled. 

"And now," Orsino's whisper was a breath against his ear, and Sebastian almost moaned, felt his cock twitch, the line of his back jerk with anticipation and surprise.  "On your knees."

He felt off balance, moving in the dark behind his eyes, the slow shift of his weight until he managed to settle on the floor. 

"Brace yourself."  Orsino's voice was behind him now, and he leaned forward, moving his body forward until he was steady on hands and knees, and he heard the softly murmured "good" above him.  He felt Orsino's hands on his hips, adjusting the line of his body, and he curved his spine until the mage was satisfied.

He caught his bottom lip in his teeth at the first press of a finger in the cleft of his arse, lowering his head and feeling the shudder through his muscles as he made himself relax. 

Orsino wasn't interested in play.  No teasing, no curve of fingers, no tantalizing strokes.  Firm, and slick, the shock of knuckles pushing inside, a twist of his hand and a spread of fingers, and Sebastian had to swallow a grunt at the sudden pressure, the stretch, even as his cock twitched and his thighs shifted to provide a better brace for his hips. 

And then he pulled his fingers out, leaving behind the slick feel of the salve and a burn low in Sebastian's gut, the ache for more that had been simmering ever since the invitation he'd received the day before.

He opened his mouth, thinking about his breathing, keeping each heavy gasp as quiet as possible as he waited.

He only managed three before he felt it, pushing inside, cool and slippery, and his forehead dropped to the floor and he closed his eyes even tighter and he wanted to moan, _Maker, yes_ , as the toy filled him.

Whatever else it was it was metal, and once the thick curve settled inside him it felt heavy, pushing against him, filling him, and he wanted to clench, push it harder, hard enough to send a shock up his spine, heat to his cock, tight enough he'd see spots behind his eyelids.

"Do you know what this is?"  Orsino's voice was smooth, so smooth, and Sebastian almost answered before he remembered the warning, and only shook his head instead.

"Good boy."  He could hear the smile in the answer, flushed with pleasure at the sound, warm beneath his skin.  "It has lyrium in it.  Just a little, a tiny thread down the middle, a small rune right here on the bottom.  Do you know what that lets me do?"

Sebastian shook his head again, even as he could feel the beat of his heart, the speed of his breath through his lungs, both increasing, harder and faster.

There was the very slightest shift as Orsino's fingers brushed against the base, a hint of warning, before cold shot through his body, a shiver making his muscles tighten around the plug inside him until white flashed behind his eyes and he had to push his lips together to hold the groan deep in his chest.

"Mmm," Orsino hummed, a low soft sound.  "You liked that, didn't you?  I could see the way your back shifted, the way your arse tightened.  Let's do that again."

Only he didn't, calling heat this time, warm waves pouring through Sebastian's body until he had to shift his arm and press his mouth against his skin, afraid he'd fail at keeping himself silent.  He didn't want it to end, fire and pleasure and the trickle of sweat down his neck into his hair, the shift of the plug inside him, rubbing back and forth as his body loosened.

A sudden shock of cold made everything clench, then back to warm, Orsino playing his body with magic, tight then loose, over and over, until he could barely breathe, and even if he'd wanted to open his eyes he'd have been unable to focus, unable to think, unable to do anything but ride the wave of sensations, the only constant the throb of his cock, hard and aching.

He may have whimpered, a little, as the magic finally eased, but he was mostly sure he'd kept it quiet enough to not lose all potential future invitations.

_Please, Maker, I want this to happen again._

He bit his arm, hard enough to bruise against skin and bone, when the shock of lightning traveled through him, one last spell, his body jerking and his muscles impossibly tight, almost pain in the curve of his spine and the press of the floor against his knees, pleasure in the sharp tingle along his muscles and skin.  He tasted his own sweat in the air as his lips parted; he was panting when it finally stopped.

"Oh, my lovely, such a good job."  Orsino's hands were on his back now, fingers digging in as he stroked down along his spine.  "So very quiet.  I'm impressed." 

Or at least that was what Sebastian thought he said.  It was hard to listen, hard to focus, the feel of those fingers moving down to his arse, the pressure just hard enough to make him try and push back into the touch. 

Not that he managed to move much, his body weak and tight and only half under his control, an ache and a hum through his muscles, his balls heavy and full and his cock so hard it was difficult to breathe.

The hands disappeared, and he was startled enough he did whine aloud, one quick sigh of breath.

"It's alright, my pretty boy," Orsino's voice was heavy and slow now, almost rough, the whisper of his body shifting just barely audible beneath the words.  "Say my name for me."

"Orsino," Sebastian gasped one rough whisper of his own.

"Again."

He swallowed. "Orsino."

"Again," sharp and rough, strain tightening the word.

"Orsino," he was louder then, almost pleading, almost begging, though he wasn't even sure for what.

"Beg for me."

" _Please, Orsino, please._ "

Orsino moaned at that, a break in his voice, and Sebastian groaned, a stutter of breath and pain and pressure and heat as he felt the hot spill of Orsino's pleasure land across his back.

He almost sobbed when Orsino removed the plug, slowly easing it free, a moment of quiet, air cool against his skin, muscles shuddering along his spine, before Orsino returned with a damp towel to clean Sebastian's skin.

Orsino was very precise, the cloth cool and damp against his neck, his back, his arse, around his hips, down the inside of his thighs, and never quite touching his balls.  Sebastian couldn't decide if that was a kindness or just one more torment.  Perhaps a bit of both.

"Lift your head."  It hurt to breathe, to shift his hips and thighs, but he did it, straightening his arms and curving his neck until he could look up at the First Enchanter, now standing in front of him.  "I am leaving now.  I will lock the door behind me.  You are not allowed to relieve yourself in my office."

He paused, as if waiting for an argument, a wince, a shudder.  Sebastian's lips tightened as he almost bit his tongue, but besides that one shift across his face he kept himself still, and waited.

Orsino smiled.

"You may leave whenever you can make yourself presentable.  You could find a quiet corner and relieve yourself, if you wish."  There was a lift in his voice, a shift of an eyebrow, something almost... hopeful?

"Or?" Sebastian's voice rasped as he forced the word out.

"Or I am retiring early tonight, right after dinner, and no one will expect to hear from me until breakfast.  You know where I rest, my pretty boy, do you not?"

Anticipation made Sebastian shiver yet again, _in this office, my word is law, outside of it, we shall see_ , and it took a moment to realize Orsino was waiting for his answer.  All he could do was nod, his throat too tight for words.

But he could plan.  And if tonight went particularly well, if he managed to _surprise_ him ... there was no telling what they might get up to tomorrow.

Orsino's smiled widened, eyes dark as he held Sebastian's gaze.  "Glad to hear it."  He leaned in closer, his whisper a caress only a small space above Sebastian's head.  "But if you accept my invitation, you may not take the matter in hand before we are together again."

Sebastian nodded again.  He had expected as much.  He wanted as much, now, wanted that desperate fire that had built deep in his gut to smolder just a little longer, so he could feel Orsino burn with it as well.

"Good."  There was the barest swish of fabric, the swirl of robes almost brushing against Sebastian's arm, and then Orsino was gone, the steady stride of his boots impossible to hear after the click of the lock.

It was going to be a painfully long afternoon, and a gloriously long night.

* * *

 

He hadn't expected the kiss.

Orsino had high hopes for his evening, after so very thoroughly teasing the young Brother all morning.  He'd wondered if Sebastian would be waiting in his quarters when he retired after dinner, or if he'd show up later, using whatever method had allowed him to sneak in before. 

Orsino failed to insult the Knight-Commander at their afternoon meeting, considering instead if he thought they'd make it to the bed, or if that would wait for some later, more relaxed, encounter.  Luckily she didn't seem too suspicious, giving up her usual glare to wave him away as she dealt with the inevitable spring fever of her newest recruits.

And then he had a class with the Senior Enchanters, and then a meeting with Solivitus about supplies, and then he had to finish his correspondence with the Seneschal, and then finally dinner, and then, only then, could he escape for some privacy and see if the boy had anything planned.

Not that Sebastian was a boy in any way that mattered, but he was such a pretty young thing it was hard to resist the term.

_He shall be_ my _boy, for just a little while._

He'd rather hoped to find Sebastian waiting when he retired that night, to be taken right against the door, hot and fast and rough.  But his rooms were quiet, the drapes drawn and the shutters closed, the fire banked after the servants' last visit.

He'd been so sure.

Perhaps later?

Orsino settled into the chair beside his fire to read, tried not to feel the weight of responsibility and age upon his shoulders, tried not to console himself with thoughts of _at least I had one good day_ as the words slowly dimmed and his eyes closed.

He gasped awake, his body warm and tight in response to the pull of teeth on his ear and a hand spread across his chest to hold him in place, the room dark, _too dark, I left the lantern lit,_ the weight of his book gone from his lap.

"Good evening, Orsino," a rough whisper in his ear woke him up completely, the soft lilt signifying everything he'd been trying not to dream about.  "Sorry for the delay."  The hand on his chest slid up to rest along his jaw, to lift his head even as the mouth by his ear moved in for a kiss.

It started so very soft, and slow, nothing like he'd assumed, nothing like his plans of a rough and thorough fucking, a brush of lips, and then just a little more, and more, until there was nothing but Sebastian's lips, Sebastian's heat pushing Orsino back into his chair even as he tilted his chin up into the kiss, his chest aching with desire.

And perhaps a lack of air.

Though he didn't notice it until Sebastian's mouth shifted up, just a bit, his lips still close enough Orsino could feel their warmth even as he had to take a breath to fill his lungs again.

"Ohhh, yes," there was a catch in Sebastian's voice, breath warm against Orsino's skin even as his thumb traced a line along the bottom of Orsino's lips.  "I had dreams about your mouth.  This is so much better."

He leaned back in, another kiss, firmer this time, his lips taking everything he wanted from Orsino's mouth, and Orsino was more than happy to let him, to open his mouth, to let his head rest against the chair, to give himself over to heat and darkness, feeling his body flush and his head spin until he could barely remember where he was.

The hands teasing his ears shifted, warm trails against his neck, gentle tugging through his hair, pulling, then letting go, sliding down shoulders and chest and stomach, until Sebastian was kneeling between Orsino's legs, his eyes only just catching enough firelight to permit a slight gleam in the shadows.

Orsino felt his jaw dropping, warm air filling his mouth with a gasp, blowing away the question he'd been about to ask, as Sebastian pressed a hand between Orsino's legs, pressure rolling from Sebastian's palm along the length of Orsino's cock.

"You've come twice for me already today," Sebastian's voice was warm, purring, darker even than the shadows that hid his face, the shift of his hand never stopping, never slowing, a warm even rub up and down and up again.  Orsino's legs spread wider, bumping against the arms of his chair, his hips rolling up, a whistle of breath the only sound he could make.  "Just how many more times do you think I can make you spill tonight?"

Orsino just shook his head, let his eyes close at the feel of Sebastian's hands loosening the ties around his waist, the rush of heat filling his cock accompanied by an ache low in his stomach.  He had no idea.  But _Maker's Breath,_ he wanted to find out.

_Once._

Sebastian took his time, the strong gentle grip of a noble-born, sure and arrogant, skin impossibly soft as he palmed the tip of Orsino's cock, as he stroked it hard, and harder, and Orsino heard himself whine in submission at the first brush of Sebastian's lips.  It was so very different than that first hot taste that morning, gentle kisses and licks, Sebastian's fingers never stopping, the heat of his breath and the hum of his voice, on and on, prolonging it until it was almost pain, exquisite and awful.

Orsino's balls were tight and full, stomach and thighs tight and straining, back curved and head pushed back against his chair, each breath a pant, a moan, so close and yet so very far, so good and not good enough, and each time Sebastian shifted his head he laughed, warm and pleased, hot breath against even hotter skin making Orsino shiver.

He knew he was a torment, and he knew Orsino liked it.

Orsino's fingers clenched tight, nails catching in the upholstery, and he bit his lip, nostrils flaring as he struggled for breath, for thought, _for control_.

Sebastian's hands squeezed tighter, his head dropped lower, a lick, a kiss, a suck, a hint of teeth against Orsino's balls, and he felt himself go, lost, out of control, heat and release and relief, spilling across his stomach and Sebastian's hands, dripping down upon his trousers and Sebastian's face.

_Twice._

Now, at last, was the fucking.

Sebastian pulled Orsino from his chair, stripped him, shoved him to the floor, and took him. 

The slap of skin with each thrust, hard and fast, _harder and faster, over and over, Maker, yes, please, no mercy, never,_ the smell of the salve Sebastian had used to ease his way, warm from the heat of their bodies, the press of the thick hearth-rug against Orsino's hands, his knees, flattened beneath his forehead when he bowed his head, muffling each sharp cry forced out of his lungs by the pressure of Sebastian's hips, were all things he could barely remember later, sharp flashes of light and shadow in his thoughts, overwhelmed by the burn of pleasure, the fullness, the pressure, the shivering beneath his skin when Sebastian pressed his hips tight to Orsino's body and curled his hips up, even further in, rubbing, teasing, deep inside, before pulling out and slamming back in, brutal, methodical, again, _again,_ until Orsino was begging, _please, please, I can't, please._

The angle shifted, deeper, harder, Orsino pressed flat to the floor, his cock hardening, throbbing, each shift making it rub between his stomach and the rug as Sebastian filled him up, each thrust rocking Orsino's body 'til he begged, fingers clawing, spine twisting, toes curling, trying to find an edge of purpose, trying to brace himself, his breath a sob of relief as he knew he couldn't, couldn't do anything, had to take it, _wanted to take it_ , an eternity of heat burning beneath his skin, dancing along his nerves, until the dance of flames was too much, Sebastian's thrusts shallower, his breath ragged, his voice a rasp clawing down Orsino's spine, and Sebastian shoved himself deep and rolled his hips one last time.

Orsino hurt, _oh Maker,_ everything hurt, slow and drawn out and aching, heat spilling from him, on and on, stomach clenching and thighs trembling as his breath stuttered, too far gone to breathe back in, he just had to endure, each shudder making his cock rub against the floor, shocks of pain at the contact, exquisite and sharp and bright.

Eventually it had to end, shaking, easing, the very air heavy against his back, and he gasped in, filling a chest gone tight.  He ignored how close his breath sounded to a sob when he let it out again, but he could not stop the moan as Sebastian turned him over.

"There we are," Sebastian sighed, hands gently stroking down Orsino's side.  He crawled over him, his body warm and soothing, not quite touching, but covering Orsino all the same.  His nose brushed against Orsino's shoulder, the lightest caress, and just as Orsino managed a more normal breath, body resting heavily against the floor, eyes still closed, but loosely now, no tight furrow creasing his face, Sebastian bit.

Orsino's whole body jerked, a whine, _oh fuck, yes,_ teeth in just the right curve where shoulder met neck, Sebastian sucking, hard, and Orsino could feel the bruise blossoming beneath Sebastian's lips.

He groaned, at last, when Sebastian lifted his head.  "Mine," he whispered, brogue thick and dark, "for now, yes?"

_Yes. Mine._ Orsino lifted his chin, hummed softly.  Sebastian laughed softly against the line of Orsino's jaw, and took the invitation, shifting softly in the darkness to find Orsino's mouth and kiss him, soft warm lips, mouths opening wide until it seemed their every breath was shared.

Orsino could feel the pull low in his stomach as Sebastian helped him to his feet.  He was going to hurt in the morning. Probably every time he had to sit or stand.

Or possibly breathe.

He smiled, and tugged on Sebastian's hair to pull him close enough to kiss again.


End file.
